Batman: Find Yourself in Insanity
by SuperBatboy Cosplay
Summary: Mark Villentore was a high school genius, until the night he murdered his parents in cold blood. Admitted in Arkham Asylum: Gotham City's Institute for the Criminally Insane, a journey of redemption and a fight for release begins.
1. Prologue

Hey guys and girls. This is my next story, _Batman: Find Yourself in Insanity_. I will not take chapter requests for this story is based off a bad point in my life. The OC characters are Mark Villentore and his best friend, Delilah Sirene.

_Batman: Find Yourself in Insanity_

Prologue:

The skies above Gotham are the same as usual. Dark. Cold. Rain pouring from the heavens. And the Bat-Signal shining in the sky, calling it's Dark Knight for help. For in this city, crime is disease; a disease in which the Batman has been trying to cure for decades. Some say crime does not cease in this once glorious city due to the Batman's existence. Some believe he is what gave birth to his own rogue's gallery; only to put them away in Arkham Asylum: Gotham's Institute for the Criminally Insane. All of his nemeses have been put away. Just three weeks ago, The Joker was brought back from escaping.

The World's Greatest Detective now has to solve a new case; one about the madhouse's newest resident. His origin is not a freak accident like falling into a vat of chemicals or having acid being thrown onto your face. _"Why did he turn out like this?"_ Batman thought to himself as he walked through the asylum. Insults from the inmates filled the halls all the way to the service elevator down to Intensive Treatment, where his rogues were held for psychological therapy. Once the elevator opened, he was greeted by Commissioner Jim Gordon. The two of them shook hands while the police and asylum security guards stood in awe and fear. Relations between the two were not always like this. In the beginning, the Batman was seen as a criminal. Over time, Gordon's trust in the masked vigilante grew. Batman could read the stress off of Gordon's face.

"Found anything on him, Jim?"

"Yeah. The kid's been ID'd as Mark Villentore. Seventeen years old and in his senior year at Gotham High School. Typical high school genius. Really popular too with the ladies too. Oh this bit of info will interest you.

"Which would be?"

"He's ranked number one of his class, earned scholarships for all of his classes at Gotham City University. From all of the evidence we found in his room, it looked like he was going to major in criminal justice, chemistry, and psychology."

"It sounds like he would have turned out like a hybrid between Two-Face and Scarecrow, if you ask me."

"With the exception of popularity if compare the two." Gordon removes his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out a stress filled sigh. "He was going to be something great in the future . . . and he just throws it all away. What would give a kid the motivation to murder in cold blood? Especially one who was raised right?

"Where is he?"

"He's in his cell; Right in between Crane's and The Joker's."

"Has he said anything to you?"

"He won't talk."

"He'll talk to me." Batman heads straight for the young man's cell, cape flowing on the floor, making The Dark Knight appear to be a phantom emerging from the darkness.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The cell of the asylum's newest inmate was different compared to the rest. This one was cushioned from the floor to the ceiling. The white floor bedding was covered in young man's bloody boot prints. Batman saw the sorrow and guilt in the boy's crying and tired bloodshot eyes. Batman was greeted by a large grin that reminded him of the Joker.

"Ah, so the Commissioner is playin' the 'Good cop, bad cop' routine?"

"Why did you murder your parents, Mark?"

" 'Why'? Are do you want to know how? Oh wait, that's right, the 'World's Greatest Detective' already knows how I did it."

"You don't want to play games with me, kid."

"Is this the part where you send me flying across the room?"

"I'm close to." Mark let out a hoarse chuckle fill the air of his cell.

"You hurt me pretty good up on that rooftop. As expected from a guy who should know all types of martial arts. Alright, Bats. You don't mind me calling you that, right? I take that as a 'yes'. You want to know why I did it? Okay. Here we go.

Mark's POV:

It started near the beginning of prom season. You know that time of a school year when single, senior year guys pretty much fight it out to ask the girl they've been eyeing for the past few months and the time that Prom King and Queen is announced? Well, one day after school, some of the student council leadership had some activity going on. The students began to settling down once some groups of cheer leaders were doing some performance. I heard someone call out my name. As I turned around, it was one of my buddies on the varsity football team, Danny.

"Hey, Danny! How you've been, man?"

"I've been doin' pretty damn good. Got myself a date for Prom and-"

"I take it that Melanie agreed to go with you?"

"Hell yeah, man!"

Suddenly, the students around Mark started clapping and cheering.

"Um, Mark. I think you got chosen as Prom King….."

"The fuck? That's unexpected….am I supposed to be happy or something?"

"Dude! Your Prom King! And on top of that you're one of the most popular and smartest guys in school! You should be!"

By nightfall, I was watching the evening news in my room. My mind was still wrapped around the very thought of me being Prom King. How the Hell did I got voted? I'm not so special. I'm just a smart kid who is good at tennis and art. No big shot on- Oh wait. I guess that pretty much does make me one. I hear the doorknob of my bedroom door twist and open. My parents. The two of them are both smiling at me from ear to ear. Almost looks like The Joker got to them. How am I supposed to them of all people what happened today? All I could do was sigh and lay it on the table.

"Mom, Dad. What's the good news? Another college application got approved?"

"No! We got a call from your school!" Mother was always the one to say something first. Wait for it . . . and cue Dad's line.

"You got perfect scores on your SAT and ACT tests! We knew you could do it!"

"_Yeah, 'cuz you programmed me to . . . bastards,"_ I thought.

"Anything new, son?" Dad asked.

"Well, it turns out I'm Prom King." Confused looks of concern immediately sprouted on their faces. As expected.

"What?" Mother shouted. "You don't have time for such a stupid thing!"

"Mark, you're mom is right. You worked too hard to relax-"

"Finals just finished for seniors earlier this week. I think it is time for me to-"

"YOU HAVE SIX SCHOLARSHIPS! YOU NEED TO GIVE THAT TITLE UP!"

"NO! I'M AT THE TOP OF MY CLASS BECAUSE YOU MADE ME! YOU DON'T LET DO ME DO ANYTHING BUT KEEP IN THIS HOUSE AND STUDY NONSTOP AGAINST MY WILL! YOU'RE THE REASON I DON'T EVEN SEE DELILAH AS MUCH ANYMORE!"

"Is this what this is about? Delilah?"

" . . . N-no . . . GOD! JUST GET OUT OF MY ROOM!

-Back to the present-

Batman stood up, staring at the young inmate. "You still have not told me your motive."

"And that, Batman, is a story for your next visit."


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

That following day, Marvin woke up right in the middle of the floor of his cell. After stretching his legs, he got up and walked to the door. A guard was standing with his back turned to the door.

"Hey," Mark said to him. The guard did not respond. He kicked the door, which immediately got the guard's attention.

"What do you want, freak?"

"Do you know what time it is?"

"Time for you to-"

"No, seriously, what's the time?" The guard sighed and looked at his watch.

"It is half past five in the afternoon. Why?"

"Alright, um . . . I know this is completely going against protocol, but is it possible for you and some guards to escort me to the nearest church? I have to repent." The guard raised an eyebrow and brought up his rifle a little bit toward the door.

"Trying to escape already, huh? Not going to happen, kid!" something shone in the light that caught Mark's eye. The guard was wearing a crucifix on a necklace.

"I see you are a follower of God as well. Then that means you believe that all have the chance for forgiveness. C'mon, give a man a chance. I am just asking you to try to get permission from the Warden. Hell, he can have twenty of you escort me there. " The guard was silent for a minute then he lowered his rifle and brought a hand onto his radio.

"Alright, alright. I can't promise anything thought. Warden Sharpe, Prisoner 00723, is requesting escort to the nearest church." His radio buzzed with Sharpe's voice.

"What?! Do not fall for that maniac's voice, Johnson! He's trying to-"

"He does not mind if you send a battalion of guards, Sir."

"Very well, then. Thirty guards will be down with you in ten minutes. Sharpe out."

"Roger that, Sir. Looks like you got your wish, kid. Now, I'm going to open this door, you hear? If you try to make a run for, I'm not thinking twice about shooting your damn legs off!" Johnson swipes the key card and the door swing open and flips the safety off of his rifle. Mark stepped out into the hall and just sits innocently on the floor. As Sharpe stated, thirty guards arrived in ten minutes. Aaron Cash, the head of Arkham security was among them. Johnson explains what is going on to the guards.

"Mark here says he wants to be forgiven at church."

"Oh he'll be forgiven . . . if we actually get there! I hear this kid almost put the Batman on ice last night!" A guard said as he slammed a fresh clip into his rifle. Some of the other guards agreed and did the same.

"Shut your mouth, Boles," shouted Cash. He looked at Mark and hauled him up onto his feet. "Let's go, kid."

It took about half an hour to get to a church. The guards were waiting outside in the cold while Cash, Johnson, and Mark entered the church. The Batman stood on the ledge of the building opposite of the church.

"_He does not seem to be trying to make an escape attempt. So . . . Mark is the religious type." _He thought. A few minutes passed and Mark exited the church and went back into the back of the car.

"_Interesting. I should speak with him once they arrive back at the asylum." _Batman did not waste in doing so. Marvin was back in his cell upon his arrival in the Intensive Care wing. Johnson was still at his post in front of Marvin's cell.

"Batman has arrived, opening the prisoner's cell door." Once Batman entered the cell, the door closed behind him. Marvin sat on the floor as he did the night before.

"I saw you at the church earlier tonight, Mark. Why didn't you try to escape? Judging from our fight last night, you could have easily taken down half the number of guards and made a run for it."

Mark just sighed. He was not in the mood to talk anyone, let alone the Batman. "Let's just cut to the chase for tonight. It was October 20th. It was about 1 o'clock in the morning and I was sneaking back into my house. I thought I was in the clear, but then the lights came on. It was my mother. She asked me where I was and I just told her I was at a party. When she heard 'party' she instantly flipped out. Remember I am, well 'was', a high school senior, so one would expect if one goes to a late night party, they would expect that individual indulged in drugs, alcohol, and sex. But did I do any of those things? Of course not! However, I was starting to look like well . . . just look at my face: deep bags under my eyes and long hair. I was just trying to have fun with my life. However that's not allowed for a genius, is it?!

That following day, I got home late, around six in the evening. My parents gave me cold stares when I got into the kitchen! They thought I was doing the same thing as the previous night, while in reality, I was doing my homework at the Gotham Library! And guess what they tried to impose onto me?! They wanted me to write out what I was doing and get the signatures of those who I was with! That is just fucking absurd! I plainly disagreed with them and they go 'This is for your own benefit!' and I told it's not."

Batman stood there, unmoved. "So why exactly did you murder your parents? This does give too much of a motive.

"Oh, as if you would know, Batman! You don't even know what it's like to be a teenager with parents!" Mark shouted in rage. Batman's eyes went wide and his mouth dropped. The vigilante stared at Mark.

"We're done for tonight." And he left without saying anything else.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Once Batman returned to the Batcave, he felt like breaking something. The boy did not mean to but he touched a nerve. It was true that Bruce Wayne did not have any parents as he went through his teen years , but he had Alfred, who raised him after the murder of his parents. He removed his cowl as he sat in front of the Bat Computer. Alfred entered the Batcave shortly.

"Welcome back, Master Bruce. I trust that tonight's interview with Mark shed some more light on the case?"

"Barely," he said through gritted teeth.

"What's wrong, Sir?"

"He got to me, Alfred. Not Batman, but Bruce Wayne."

"Ah. I see. It seems that the two of you are quite the opposite sides of each other. Batman had been made as the result of the death of your mother and father, while Mark on the other hand was the result of him murdering his own kin."

"What was the positive side that Mark and I share?"

"Well, the fact that the two of you are both highly intellectual and physically adept."

Bruce was silent, still shocked from Mark's unintended insult. "Alfred . . ."

"Yes, Sir?"

"Ask Robin to send a message to Gordon. Ask him to find Mark's inner circle at school and question them if they had noticed any changes in his behavior from September 14th to October 21st."

"Right away, Sir. In the meantime, what will you be doing?"

"I'll dig deeper into the things he did outside of school because on the night that I caught him, he led me on a pretty wild chase."

"Is that so?"

"Yes. I find it quite strange yet incredible that a seventeen year old is able to twenty-five percent of what I can do in a fight."

"That is pretty odd, Sir."


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

It was another day at the asylum. Mark had taken an interest in Crane's studies of fear and while seeing Harley Quinn and The Joker as parents with a "I don't give a damn what you do" attitude. Oddly, Mark accepted his new "parents" even after he brutally murdered his biological ones approximately a month ago. Joining the "clique" of the more well-known rogues of the Bat angered some of the other inmates . . . mainly Victor Zsasz, the sociopath riddled with tally marks cut into his flesh. Zsasz saw the young Mark as a potential successor if the serial killer eventually was killed in his pursuit of relieving people of life.

Lately, Mark had been noticing that Zsasz was giving him deathly glares from where the he was sitting during the inmate lunch period. Mark was in better physical condition than Zsasz, however, Zsasz was more methodical than he was in killing others. Mark merely killed due to months of pent up anger. Zsasz could get him ANYWHERE. Knowing this, he tapped a finger on his "mother's" shoulder.

"Mama Harls . . ." he said in a quiet voice.

"What is it, mah lil rock stah?"

"He's doing it AGAIN . . ."

"WHAT?! DAT DOES IT!" she shouted, startling Nygma and Crane, who were reading. Harley got up and marched over to where Zsasz was seated. "NOBODY GIVES MAH LIL BOY THE CREEPY EYES!" Zsasz was unmoved at the sight of former Arkham therapist storming over. "LISTEN HERE, SKINNY! YOU COME NEAR MARKY AGAIN, I'LL-"

Harley was suddenly hoisted off the ground from the back of her orange jumpsuit by a large hand. "Settle down, idiota. You will end up forcing the guards cut the rec hour short again." BANE. The only one in Arkham Asylum to prove to physically harm the Bat. No not harm. BREAK. And Bane did just that back in the 90s. Mark was just a baby then, but as he grew up, he heard the stories. He believed that the 'roid addict was more of a perfect rival to Batman than the Joker. Harley was flailing and whining for Bane to put her down. He put her down next to Mark upon reaching the "elite" table.

"Thank you, Banesy!" said the Joker who just got to the table.

"Whatever, payaso. Do not ask me for any more favors," he said, leaning in close to the Joker's face. The Joker just chuckled and sat next to Harley and Mark.

"So, Harley, what mess did you get into THIS time?" asked the Clown Prince of Crime.

"Zsasz was givin' Marky the evil eyes again, puddin'!"

"REALLY NOW?" he said looking at Mark. "Don't worry about Zsasz, kiddo! I'm sure you can put him in his place if the two of you were to dish it out!" he said with a large grin and slapped Mark in the back.

"You think so?" Mark asked his . . . "father". "Now that you mention it, I think I could." A smirk grew on his face.

"Do not be over confident now," Crane said from his seat, not looking up from his book. "Zsasz is NEVER to be underestimated.

"I say the kid actually has a landslide of chance in a fight with Zsasz," stated Nygma. "Afterall, Mark knew where to strike the Bat's vitals the night he was brought here!" This news startled Mark.

"H-How do you know about that? . . . " he stuttered.

Nygma chuckled and raised his glasses up the bridge of his nose and looked at Mark with a smirk. "Oh, I have resources, kid."

"ANYWAY," Harley said, who grew tired of the "versus" chat, looked at the Joker. "What took ya so long to get here, Puddin'?"

"Oh, just another patient chat with Dr. Young, Harley," he said, sitting back in his chair and bringing his legs up on the table. The Joker had a large grin on his face and leaned close to Mark and whispered, "I got BIG plans for this place, kiddo. Then once the party starts, we will own the Asylum!"

Mark looked at the clock on the wall. There were thirty minutes left of the rec hour. "I got to get going."

"By all means, kiddo!" The Joker chuckled as Mark left the rec room. "Where does that kid wander off to?"

"Yeah! Where does lil Marky go everyday?" Harley said just as confused as The Joker.

This made Crane calmly set his book down and look at Joker. As did Bane and Nygma.

"You two cannot see what is going on?" Crane said. The two clowns shook their heads. Nygma sighed and put his palm against his face.

"The lad is going to the gardens again," Bane said, crossing his arms.

"WHAT?! IVY?!" Harley and The Joker said in unison.


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Mark made his way to Poison Ivy's cell as quick as he could. Ever since he first spoke with her, Mark had been attracted to the femme fatale. He heard of her toxic and mind manipulation abilities but he did not need to worry about that since she was imprisoned in a cell made of shatterproof glass. The two had been regularly seeing each other since his incarceration.

"There you are, darling. I was starting to think you had forgotten about me," Ivy said in her iconic sultry voice, placing her hands against the glass.

"Me? Forget about you? NEVER," he responded, placing his hands where hers were. He was happy yet his face did not show it.

"What is wrong, Mark?"

"It's Zsasz again. Giving me death glares again."

"Again?" A smirk came onto Mark's face and looked up at Ivy.

"Yes. I told Mama Harls and she threw a huge fit at Zsasz. Then Bane intervened." Mark then explained the whole incident to Ivy, which made her laugh.

"Oh, Harley. Always starting the fights. Anything else interesting happen today, little one?" Mark then grew quiet.

"Well, then Joker began talking about the idea that I could kill Zsasz in a fight. I said that I probably could since I am smarter. Nygma then said he thinks I could too." He was silent for a few seconds then asked, "What do you think?"

Ivy took a second to think, and pressed herself against the glass, which caused Mark to do the same. "You want my opinion, Mark? I think that you do have a chance. But remember this: Zsasz is not to be taken lightly. There is a reason he was relocated to the Isolation Wing of the asylum. And be wary roaming the halls. The less . . . "important" meat sacks in this hell will catch wind of the two of you and will most likely make this into an actual fight." This cause a shiver to run down Mark's spine and he shook. "Oh, dear. I did not mean to frighten you."

Mark shook his head. "It's alright, Ivy. I know you didn't. Just . . . a little bit of . . . fear, that's all." He looked back up to her, looking into her green eyes.

"Reading Crane's books again?"

"Pretty much. After all, I did write a report on his fear studies when I was in school."

"Did you now? I would love to read it sometime," she said, getting onto her knees, going on her knees. Mark's cheeks went red.

"I'll see if I can get my report to be brought in. Anything for you, Ivy."

Ivy smiled and stood back up, still pressed against the glass. "You promised me, love. Fulfill it." Mark smiled and leaned toward the glass and I vy did too. Suddenly, he closed his eyes and kissed the glass. He heard Ivy chuckle and she did so as well. "You sure have a liking to me and I didn't even have to use my pheromones on you."

Mark opened his eyes to see a red lipstick stain on the glass and smirked. "Well, you can't blame me. You are drop dead gorgeous."

"Now I see why you were one of the popular ones at Gotham High. I bet you were the ladies man."

Marks cheeks went even more red. "Stop!" He chuckled.

"I bet you want to kiss me for real," she said smiling.

"If I do, I die . . ."

"Not many know of this but I can increase and decrease my body's toxicity levels. Even to human levels." This made his head spin and heart beat faster.

"Y-You can do that?" he asked, trying to keep his excitement in check. Ivy chuckled.

"Down, boy. How do you think I let Harley touch me?" A guard came in the room and tapped his night stick on the wall.

"Hey! Rec hour is up! Head back to your cell, Villentore!" Mark looked at Ivy and she began to walk to her bed and laid on it, running a hand through her hair as the guard left. Mark began to walk back to his cell. When he heard Ivy call to him.

"Oh, Mark~"

"Yeah?" he said, turning to her. She blew him a kiss. He smirked at her then left. His head was spinning. He wanted to hold the former botanist, but was she telling the truth about him being able to touch her without getting killed? He wanted to know. It was a gamble. Upon reaching his cell, he laid on his bed, his thoughts just on Poison Ivy. Eventually a guard opened his cell door. Annoyed, Mark sat up.

"WHAT?"

"Don't give me attitude, kid. Get up. Your regular visitor is here to see you."

"Oh, right. Lead the way," he said sarcastically, doing a courteous bow.

"Little smart ass," said the guard.


	7. Chapter 6

Ch. 6

Mark followed the guard to the Visitor's Center. It was Delilah. It had been a couple of months since he last saw his best friend. He sat desk and picked up the phone on the wall.

"Hey," he said with a gruff tone. Mark was still convinced that he belonged in the asylum. Delilah was silent for a moment.

"Hi, Mark. How are you doing?"

"Alright," he lied. He didn't want to show her that he actually had some beef with one of Batman's rogues.

"You are one terrible liar, Mark Villentore."

"I'm not lying."

"I'm your best friend. I can tell if you are lying."

"It's not my place to say anything, Delilah." The two friends were silent again.

"Why do you keep acting like this every time I visit you?"

Mark looked at her with pleading eyes and whispered. "It is for your safety, okay? I can't live with myself if anyone in this hell hole were to hurt you."

"Where are you on your way to release? Are you sure you want to stay in here forever?" The question did linger in Mark's mind. He knew that he was starting to lose his sanity, the longer he remained in Arkham. Then there was Ivy. There little "relationship", for the lack of a better word, was growing. He knew what he was saying was true and he would want to be by the poisonous woman's side, but what if she would kill him immediately the moment after he were to step foot in her cell? "Hello? Earth to Mark?"

"Huh?" He shook his head. "Sorry, um . . . what did you say?"

"Seriously? Are you SERIOUSLY playing dumb? Dammit, Mark! I am trying to talk some sense into you! Trying to help you! Save you!" She took a few deep breaths then looked him in the eyes. "What are you doing in here? If you won't talk to Dr. Young . . . Hell . . . if you are not evening talking to Batman, talk to me. You know you can trust me. Talk to me. Anything . . ."

Mark looked down, gathering the courage to tell her what was going on. Then he looked up at her. "Since your last visit . . . I have . . . I have um . . . seeing someone."

"What? As in romantically?" He nodded. "Who? I mean . . . there are not many wo-"

"Poison Ivy . . ." he said, looking straight at her. Delilah looked at him, jaw dropping. Suddenly she started to laugh.

"Poison Ivy? Are you for real? She doesn't have you under her mind control right?!" She continued laughing.

"I'm serious! I think she likes me too!" Delilah just kept laughing. "You know what? We are done f or today," he said and hung up the phone and went back to his cell. Mark laid on his bed, drifting off to sleep.

*Author Note: I apologize for this chapter being weak. I have not been feeling well in the head during the time I was typing this up with San Diego Comic-Con going on this past weekend. All of my social media feed was blowing up and I had my studies to do as well. Again, I apologize for this chapter not being that great.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 7

Dr. Young sat in her office as going over the interview tapes that were recorded during Mark's early days in the asylum. "_That boy is just avoiding to be helped . . . why?"_ she thought to herself. She gathered her tape recorder and took a guard with her as she walked to Mark's cell for another session. Mark was just barely awake as she arrived.

The cell door opened and Mark greeted her with a smirk. "Hello, Dr. Young. Is it time for another interview already? I haven't even had my breakfast yet."

"Good morning, Mark," she said as she sat at the edge of the bed. "Yes, it is time. How are you feeling?"

"Hungry. I want to get my breakfast."

"This session will not take long, Mark."

"That's a first," he huffed and got up, leaning on the cell wall opposite to the bed. "What's on the 'agenda' today?"

"Well, Mark, I will get right to the point: the longer you prolong telling me why you murdered your parents, the longer you will remain locked up here."

"Tell me something I don't know. And I told you already, Dr. Young. I BELONG HERE."

"No you do not, Mark. You are only seventeen. You have your whole life ahead of you. Outside of these walls. Among good people."

"And what? Be constant watched by the police? By Batman? Being denied job opportunities? Seen by the public as a time bomb? That is not life, Dr. Young."

"Then what would you define as the meaning of life, Mark? Life outside Arkham is a better life."

"Then let me ask you, Doctor: Are you 'happy' here? Of course you are. It helps you pay your bills. You've studied half of your life to be here doing what you are passionate about. Did you have people in your way? People who told you 'No, what you're doing is not possible'?"

"I am the one asking the questions here, Mark. Yes, there were in fact some people who would be obstacles in my pursuit of being a psychiatrist, but I did not stoop to the level of murder," she replied in a tense tone. After a few minutes of silence between the two, Doctor Young sighed. "We are done here today, Mark. Let's go, Cash."

"Stay there, kid," he said opening the door. Once Doctor Young and Cash left, Mark plopped onto the cushioned floor and sighed. She was right. However, he was hassled on a daily basis. Some of the inmates/patients who were passing by for their sessions taunted him regarding Zsasz.

"Zsasz is gonna fuck you up, kid!" one of them said. All Mark could do was glare at each of them. Upon the third insult, he grinned maliciously.

"Yeah? Well, once I've cut Zsasz to ribbons, you're next," he said, voice sounding cold and different as if he was a whole different person. Once the inmate backed off and left, he heard a voice outside his cell door that was familiar.

"He was certainly trembling walking away. Great choice of words, Mark."

"Oh. Doctor Crane. It's you," he said walking towards the door. "What is it?"

"It is official. Zsasz wants to fight," he said. Mark's heart felt as if it stopped beating. All the smack talk he was saying about the serial killer must have gotten to Zsasz sooner than he thought. "Also, Joker seems to be planning something BIG. I am in on the plan as well as Harley. Rumor has it one of the asylum staff is as well."

"Wh-what? A riot?" he asked. "When is it happening?"

"Either tomorrow night or the night after. It will be complete and utter chaos. I would love for you to do something for me," he asked.

"What would that be?"

"I would like you to retrieve my Fear Gas, gauntlet, and mask. I highly advise you do the same with whatever you arrived with the night you were admitted here. You will need it since ALL the inmates will be running amok."

"Why would I do this for you?" he said, starting to be defensive. He admired Crane's studies on fear, but it is the Scarecrow who he was talking to. However, it Crane that had been looking out for him this entire time. "Fine, Crane. I'll help you," he said with a sigh.

"Excellent. Head straight to the entrance of the Visitor's Center once the riot begins. Joker will have Harleen unlock every single inmate's cell door in this Hell. That's where they hold all of belongings. Meet me at the medical wing upon retrieving them," he said, walking away. Marvin went back to his bed and laid on his back, staring at the ceiling. Of all times he need to be careful . . . now was the time. Things were going to change. The mentality of every inmate will change. Hunters and the hunted. "It's kill . . . or be killed," he said closing his eyes, falling asleep.


End file.
